


Ensconced

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 01:44:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17458226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Just two men in bed.





	Ensconced

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Blue_Q](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Q/gifts).



> A/N: Pick-me-up vignette for Blue_Q’s “post-coital Prompto and Ignis cuddling and talking about silly cute stuff” prompt.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

With a strangled cry, Prompto arches off the bed, and Ignis bears down over him, driving deeper inside. Prompto didn’t think there was any room left to take, but Ignis finds it and does, filling him up so completely that it becomes hard to breathe. That also might be the weight on his lungs—Ignis crushes him into the mattress and covers his mouth with soft lips and a softer tongue. Prompto moans around it, kissing back, and then Ignis is gone again, lifting back up to tower above him like some gorgeous, merciful Astral.

Prompto’s getting close. Too close—he never wants it to end as soon as it does, though he’s getting better at holding back than he used to be—he used to come after only a few thrusts of Ignis’ mammoth cock, or his own pressed inside Ignis. He’s a year older now, and spoiled and used to Ignis’ impeccable skills—the way Ignis reads him so easily and always gives him exactly what he needs. He wants it all, and he wants it for as long as possible. Ignis’ long fingers pause at the base of his cock. Prompto whines a broken, “ _Please_ —”

Ignis nods like he understands. His hands leave Prompto’s throbbing shaft, sliding up over Prompto’s stomach, smoothing over his pecs and gliding down his arms, and then Ignis’ fingers are slotting between his. Ignis holds Prompto’s hands down against the sheets. Prompto’s whole body’s shaking. Ignis is driving him crazy, pounding him up and down the mattress with every brutal thrust. Prompto _loves_ it that way. Prompto loves Ignis. He’s giddy when Ignis comes down to kiss him again, all teeth and tongue, somewhere right between _ravenous_ and gentle.

Ignis is getting close too. Prompto can sense it in the way his breath gasps in between their greedy kisses, and Prompto thinks he can feel Ignis’ heartbeat—feel his pulse racing too fast. His skin’s burning hot, like Prompto’s, damp in certain places where he’s working up a sweat. The gel in his hair has almost completely worn out, his normally pristine fringe now a mess across his forehead, mixing with Prompto’s hair as their faces nudge together. Ignis’ glasses are on the nightstand, Ignis’ clothes on the floor. Prompto’s still got his socks on and not a thing else. 

For once, Ignis is the first to fall. He shifts to bury his face in Prompto’s shoulder, and he comes with a cry, and Prompto could swear he can feel the condom swelling up inside him. He breaks out of Ignis’ hold so he can wrap his arms around Ignis’ shoulders properly, and he holds Ignis down, holds Ignis against him, moaning as his lover shudders in his arms. The noises Ignis makes are beautiful. _Ignis_ is beautiful. And Prompto loves him _so much_ that it’s hard to cope sometimes. Ignis is barely finished before Prompto’s worming one hand between them and grabbing his own cock. He pumps himself a few times to finish himself off, and that’s all it takes. He clenches down around Ignis’ shaft and groans as he bursts, splashing both of them in cum. 

The orgasm that hits him is blissful. It always is—he’s never been disappointed with Ignis. It makes his toes curl, makes him squirm, makes his breath hitch and his vision blur. He keeps a tight hold on Ignis and focuses in on every little spot where they’re connected—their shoulders, their thighs, their cheeks, and Ignis’ cock still inside him. Even when he’s coming down and flagging, he likes the way that feels. He whines when Ignis pulls out of him, always does.

Like usual, Ignis presses a chaste kiss to his temple, as if to say sorry for leaving him empty. Prompto takes it with a mewl and tilts his head to capture Ignis’ lips properly. He’s left feeling uncomfortably open and sore, but he doesn’t mind it. He likes it just as much as when it’s his turn on top, and he lingers in Ignis’ warm channel for as long as he can get away with. 

Ignis is too neat for that. He’s already peeling off the condom as he settles down next to Prompto, tossing it absently towards the bin in the corner and of course making the first shot, even though he’s still not wearing glasses. He’s perfectly coordinated that way. Graceful till the end. But at least he stays in bed afterwards, sharing Prompto’s pillow and brushing Prompto’s side. He has to—Prompto still has a single mattress. He needs to get at least a queen. And he needs a proper frame—not just a child-sized old mattress on the floor of his tiny childhood bedroom, because Ignis deserves a whole _palace_ to luxuriate in during afterglows.

It takes Prompto a moment to catch his breath, and then he mutters, even though he knows he’s said it before, “Sorry my room’s so lame.”

Ignis smiles kindly like it doesn’t matter. It probably doesn’t to him, even though he works in lavish splendor, because he’s humble like that—utterly well balanced, even with a royal paycheck. He rolls onto his side, which gives them a small margin of extra room, and he bestows a kiss to Prompto’s cheek. “It’s alright,” he hums. “I know you wanted me here tonight.”

Prompto nods tiredly. He did. He wants Ignis with him every night, but now that he’s working full time and training for the Crownsguard, he doesn’t have boundless energy anymore to bus halfway across the city to Ignis’ apartment. Besides, that’s always a gamble—Ignis is out more often than he’s in. He probably spends most of his time at Noctis’ place, but while Prompto loves it there, they can’t do _this_ there. Maybe when the Crownsguard paycheck comes in, Prompto will find a better house.

Or maybe they’ll finally have that conversation about _sharing_ a place, but that’s a talk better held before sex than afterwards. Now Prompto’s too boneless and dizzy to really _think_. He just _wants_. He wants to cuddle with Ignis for hours, or at least the few minutes before he falls asleep.

Ignis is too responsible for that, though. He makes as if to move, shifting up on his elbow, but Prompto reaches out and grabs his shoulder, tugging him back down. Ignis chides, “It’s time to clean up, Prompto.”

“ _Iggy_ ,” Prompto whines, because being needy often works with Ignis. “Just hold me for a while...”

“You’ll get sticky and gross, you know.”

“We can shower later. Besides, it’s the weekend—it’s our one free night to just relax.”

Ignis sighs, “We’re never free,” and reaches out to thread his fingers through Prompto’s hair. Prompto practically purrs as Ignis starts petting him, just the way he likes—Ignis knows all the best ways to melt him. And Ignis is right; they both have too much going on. But they had nothing this evening, and Prompto doesn’t just want dinner and sex: he wants prime Iggy time. For a few minutes, Prompto loses himself in that: just enjoying Ignis’ presence, and the soothing way that Ignis strokes him.

Then he manages to mumble, “No, you’re really free tonight... Noct promised me I could have you to myself today.”

Ignis chuckles, “Did he now?”

“Hm,” Prompto nods. He’s getting sleepy, his head heavier, the pillow so soft and Ignis even softer. “He’s not gonna call you over unless the whole place is burning down...”

Ignis chuckles again. Laughter is a somewhat rare sound from him, but _so_ worth it to earn. Ignis asks, “Burning it down after one night left alone? I do hope I’ve trained Noctis better than that...”

“It’s our day,” Prompto stubbornly insists, “so it’s _me_ you’re supposed to be training.”

“Mm,” Ignis muses, “Like a pet or a chocobo...”

Prompto would happily be Ignis’ pet. But he says instead, “I’d happily be your chocobo.”

Ignis’ smile is so lovely. Prompto’s only got his desk lamp on, and the low evening light from the curtains, but it sort of makes him wish he had his room as bright as possible so he could admire every little detail of his boyfriend’s amusement. Ignis continues, “Well, you certainly are as cute and cheery as one...” 

“I’ll take that as a compliment. I love chocobos. In fact... I’d love to see you with one...” It seems like a perfect juxtaposition in his mind: the bright-eyed innocence of a cooing wild animal, and Ignis’ polished formality. 

It surprises him when Ignis answers, “You know, I haven’t ridden one in ages.”

That perks Prompto right up. He tries to shuffle closer, but there’s no room to get closer, so it only really presses his side tighter against Ignis. They’re starting too cool down in the open air of the small room, but Ignis seems to read his mind as usual and reaches over to collect the rumpled blanket piled up in the corner. He draws it over them as Prompto asks, “Really, you? When did that happen? It wasn’t since you know me, right?” Because then they should’ve taken him for sure. But Ignis shakes his head.

“No, it was quite some time ago, actually. A visiting dignitary gifted two to Noctis, who was a sweet enough child, but certainly not a _responsible_ one. His Majesty paid for my lessons, so that I could visit them with Noct and make sure he was riding correctly. Of course, their maintenance became a hassle for the palace, and they were eventually donated to an outpost beyond the city limits.” 

“Poor chocobos,” Prompto mumbles, feeling just as sorry for himself for having missed them. “Getting sent away from you like that...”

“Indeed. Although I’m certain they’ve been well taken care of since.”

“We should visit them sometime,” Prompto decides. “Or any chocobo farm, really, if you ever get the time off. Then you can teach me how to ride one.” Prompto can’t think of a better date.

It’s probably not Ignis’ ideal date, but he still agrees, “Certainly. I think I was decently good with them. I did feed and scrub them down at times. ...And speaking of bathing rituals...”

Prompto groans, because he knows just where that’s going.

Ignis teases, “Come now, you have the energy for a bath. Haven’t you always been the uppity one?”

Usually, but: “Not after I’ve been fucked so good!”

Ignis’ grin is almost painfully charming. He offers, “If I’ve really broken you so badly, I suppose I can carry you to the bathtub and wash you as penance.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Prompto shakes his head. He does love Ignis doting on him, but he doesn’t _really_ need it. He hasn’t yet been taken to the point where it’ll hurt to sit down tomorrow, although he’d still like to get there. To that end, he decides, “No... we’ll go shower together. That way we can fit another round in and still get clean afterwards.”

Ignis gives him an indulgent kiss. Then Ignis is taking his hand and tugging him free of the mattress, and Prompto, still wholly smitten, eagerly follows.


End file.
